


Containment

by lilacsigil



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Hiding, Ice Cream, Locked In, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 15:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21394246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsigil/pseuds/lilacsigil
Summary: A kill order is out for Villanelle and everyone she knows, so Carolyn orders Eve into hiding. Eve tries to make her own fun until a surprise visitor shows up.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2019





	Containment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impertinence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impertinence/gifts).

"Yes, well, I'm terribly sorry, but there's a containment order out on Villanelle."

It was Carolyn's dry voice on the line, and Eve had to blink rapidly to get herself to 100% wakefulness. The bus she was on had somehow rocked her gently to sleep, despite the young couple having a shrieking argument about their shrieking baby three rows behind her. 

"A containment order? That doesn't sound so bad."

Carolyn chuckled. "Oh, no, I assure you it's a genuine problem. For you, I mean. A containment order differs from a kill order in that they don't only destroy the target, they destroy anyone with whom he or she has been in contact."

"Like she's a disease."

"Spot on! So I'd like you to hop off the bus three stops from now and there'll be someone waiting to meet you, codeword Houston, response Mrs Tiggywinkle."

"Really?" Eve screwed up her face. 

"Goodness me, don't make that face! The wind will change and you'll be useless for fieldwork." 

Eve stopped immediately and glanced around for cameras. 

"That's better," Carolyn continued. "Now, I've organised for your husband's safety, so don't worry about that. Just follow instructions and keep your head down until the containment order has been rescinded."

"Won't that be when Villanelle's dead?"

"You sound concerned! No, no, I've got people working on it. You're coming up to the bus stop now, so I'll let you go. Take care, Eve, and switch off the phone now."

"You too," Eve replied vaguely, busy checking for imminent assassins. Nobody stood out, but that was the point, wasn't it? Fortunately the shouting couple with the loud baby were getting off at this stop, so she dropped her phone into the signal-blocking pouch and stayed close to the partially folded giant pram they had with them. At least it would stop attacks from one direction. Up to and including nuclear attacks, by its size and the ominous neon yellow and black colouring. Not that Eve knew for baby fashion, but it seemed designed to give the poor kid vision issues. 

She walked towards the corner, acutely aware that she was in a crowd and anyone could be ready to stab or shoot or strangle her, when a tall Indian man standing by a black cab caught her eye. 

"Houston," he hissed. 

Eve sighed. "Mrs Tiggywinkle?"

He grinned and opened the door for her. 

"You know these taxis used to have suicide doors? They were still around the first time I came to London, I felt like an idiot trying to open them the wrong way." Eve couldn't stop herself chattering away, even as she told herself to shut up and look cool. As cool as someone who'd just said "Mrs Tiggywinkle" could be, at any rate. 

"My dad used to drive one for real, so I remember them well!" He had a posh accent, but at least he didn't look right through her like most of the posh boys at MI-6. Maybe the accent was fake; she'd never got a firm grip on the layers and layer and fucking impenetrable layers of British accents and classes and backgrounds. "I'm Javid, and we're taking the long way around to the safe house, okay?"

"Fine by me!" 

Javid turned out to not mind Eve's chatter at all, though they both kept to deliberately inconsequential topics, and eventually Javid was able to declare that nobody was following them. They still had to leave the cab and go along a creepy path near a concreted canal, through a schoolyard and then, finally, through a maintenance door into one of those little shopping centres that had kind of sprawled backwards from the high street shops. It was strange and almost melancholy hearing everyone going about their normal lives: evening shopping and dining and queueing up for the cinema. Only a thin and slightly wobbly MDF wall separated them from Eve and Javid, sneaking past broken furniture and outdated cardboard stands and unpacked boxes of merchandise. She wondered where Niko was right now, but put that out of her head. Without Eve present, he wouldn't be in any danger. 

Up a short flight of stairs turned out to be a small but complete flat, just one room plus a tiny kitchenette and toilet/shower arrangement. It must be above the cinemas, as Eve could hear the distorted rumble of fake explosions below them. There were no windows and just the one door. No computer in evidence, but plenty of books and a small TV with a rack of DVDs underneath. 

"Here you are!" Javid said, cheerfully. "Panic button by the door if you need it and you're good to go. Well, stay. No phone calls. Someone will come and get you when whatever's happening is done. Otherwise we'll come check on you in 72 hours to the minute. Same password/response. Okay?"

Eve quickly checked the flat. It looked all right: the little fridge was fully stocked and there was a generous first aid kit with the Nurofen she was desperately craving for her headache. "I guess they don't want me heading downstairs for a bit of shopping."

She was joking, but Javid looked briefly horrified. "No! No, please don't do that."

"I won't! It's okay! I understand!" 

Javid laughed nervously and departed, and that was that. Eve was safe in her little flat. 

She thought about what Villanelle would do in her position. She'd know her environment, Eve decided, and, as soon as she'd taken the Nurofen, thoroughly explored the apartment. She found there was a secret compartment in the floor under the armchair that was just big enough for Eve to lie down in flat on her back, so she wasn't sure whether to be creeped out that the flat was designed for someone her size, or to be pleased that she could hide somewhere that probably wasn't designed for hiding. She found that the TV was not only not hooked up to terrestrial channels, but was unable to get any reception at all. That was probably good. It would be embarrassing to escape the Twelve or the KGB or whoever had put the containment order on Villanelle only to be rumbled by the TV licence inspectors. The shower annoyingly splashed all over the toilet, so she'd have to save one of the towels for toilet mopping; the cooking appliances in the kitchenette consisted of a microwave and a kettle. 

Understanding her environment took about fifteen minutes: flicking through all the books and DVD cases and looking behind the clock in case there were secret messages took nearly an hour. Heating and eating the pasta-for-one from the fridge could be stretched out for an hour, as well, with an episode of _Pride and Prejudice_ that Eve had seen many times before but always enjoyed. And then Eve was thoroughly bored. No work, no phone, no anything!

"What would Villanelle do?" she asked again, and avoided the obvious answer of "Escape." Surely Villanelle had had to stay hidden for periods of time before, whether observing her targets to learn their habits or while smuggling herself around Europe? How would she entertain herself while she lay in wait? Oh, Eve thought, the answer was obvious. Villanelle had told her herself: she'd masturbate and think about Eve. Well, Eve could give that a go.

She slung a leg over the arm of the chair and thought about Villanelle. Villanelle wouldn't be wearing cotton Marks and Spencer underwear. She'd be wearing something silky, expensive, just brushing against her soft skin, perfectly sized so there were no elastic marks. Or maybe just a little at the top, visible when Eve slid them down. Yeah, this was definitely working. Eve slid her hand inside her own underwear, imagining Villanelle's hand there. Even the chipped nail wasn't an impediment – she could think Villanelle had done it fighting off someone trying strangle her rather than on the house key that morning. Yes, Villanelle had just fought off some big ugly man trying to strangle her and she was all flushed and her clothes rumpled from the struggle. She would be grateful to Eve for saving her, happy to see Eve, wearing that pink confection of a dress that Eve had seen in her wardrobe, though her imagination was delightfully vague on how that dress actually fitted or looked being worn. Just pink clouds everywhere, and Villanelle naked underneath, wearing that confident smirk as she clutched a hand in the fabric, her other hand in Eve's pants, and oh yeah. 

Eve arched upwards in the chair, electric jolts running through her groin and upwards into her belly, then pressed herself against the arm of the chair for a slowly fading little series of orgasms. Okay, okay, that was good. She closed her eyes for just a moment, slung sideways across the armchair, and was suddenly awakened by a strange rasping noise. 

Oh shit, oh shit, one of the MDF panels in the wall was moving! Her clit still tingling and a bit tender as she moved, she grabbed the first weapon she could find – her fork from dinner – and crept over to the wall panel. Should she hit the panic button? It was all the way across the apartment by the door. Maybe it was someone lost in the maze at the back of the shopping centre? Eve shook her head. No, there would be no reason for someone to try to pry a panel free when they could find a door. It must be someone here to carry out the containment order. 

At the very moment Eve decided to make a dash for the panic button, the panel finally came loose and a hand came around the side. Eve shrieked and stabbed it with the fork. 

"Aaaah! Why are you stabbing me?" It was Villanelle's voice. 

"Villanelle?" Eve asked, cautiously.

"Yes, it's me! Somebody is trying to kill me so I thought I would come stay with you."

Eve helped her push the panel aside enough for Villanelle to climb in. For some reason, she was wearing a crinkly gold bubble skirt and a ruffled pale blue blouse with a hot pink bra underneath. The shirt now had a splash of blood up the sleeve from Eve's fork attack. 

"Sorry about your shirt," Eve said, unsure why she was apologising. 

"It's okay." Villanelle stood just inside the flat, elbows sticking out. Somehow, for her, standing awkwardly translated into some kind of magazine-ready image that made Eve feel like she too could wear that and not look ridiculous. Which was a lie, and that made Eve cranky. Also, her traitorous body had reacted with great interest to Villanelle's sudden appearance, after all those intense thoughts about her. Eve was glad she was wearing her boring blue cardigan now, because if she was wearing what Villanelle wore, her nipples would be saying a very obvious hello. 

"So. How did you find me?" Eve manoeuvred the wall panel back into its groove. Villanelle gave it a good thump and it settled back in like it had never been moved. 

"Eh, I followed the taxi and there are not so many places around here where you could be hiding."

Eve felt that she should protest Villanelle spying on her, out of principle, but instead she said, "Are you hungry?"

Her pale eyes lit up. "Oh, starving!" 

"Fridge is over there, help yourself."

Villanelle bit her lip. "You're not glad to see me? I know it's my fault you have to hide, but you are a very good hider! You will be okay! And if they come to kill you, I'll kill them for you."

Eve threw up her hands. "Sure! Fine! Great! You had no trouble finding me, but whatever organisation is trying to kill you isn't going to track me down exactly the same way! And when they inevitably do, it'll be a bloodbath! Hooray! I'm supposed to be happy about that?"

"Maybe a little?" Villanelle pushed up the corners of her own mouth to make a fake smile. "Maybe just a tiny bit 'Hello, nice to see you?'"

Eve giggled, feeling hysterical, and also a bit like a teenager whose wank fantasy had suddenly shown up in her bedroom. "Okay, maybe a tiny bit nice to see you. At least, I'm glad you're not dead."

"Yay! Konstantin said I had to go away and not bother him, so I thought I would come bother you instead, and then it was a stupid contamination order."

With a sigh, Eve got another pasta for one out of the fridge and put it in the microwave. "So what does that even mean?"

Villanelle flopped down on the one chair at the tiny kitchen bench. "Oh, super annoying. It means somebody thinks I know something and they want to kill everyone I might have told."

"Do you know something?" Eve rinsed off the slightly bloody fork in the tiny sink, then belatedly handed Villanelle the first aid kit. 

Rifling through the assorted dressings, Villanelle shrugged. "Maybe! Or maybe I saw something! Oh, this dressing is hydrocolloid, they're the best. No scarring."

"I guess it would be pretty embarrassing for an international assassin to have the imprint of a fork in her hand." 

"Ha, this is why I like you, Eve. You are so funny! I would have to make up a story, like, deadly spikes or something. Two snakes maybe?"

Eve shook her head and laughed, too, as the microwave beeped. "Very small, very evenly spaced snakes. Here, this pasta is pretty good for microwave food."

She wrapped her hand in a tea towel and bent over to get the pasta out, but when she stood up, Villanelle was standing way too close, with an intense look on her face.

"What?" Eve said, reaching past her to put the pasta on the narrow bench.

"I am sorry I am a virus. Contaminating you."

"Don't even…look, I'm not happy about it either, but you're the one they're really after. Hey, I have an idea!"

"Okay, great!" Villanelle pulled off her bloodstained shirt and started going through the small dresser. Eve momentarily averted her eyes, but then she thought that anyone who wears a hot pink bra under a semi-transparent shirt is totally fine with having their bra looked at. It looked pretty comfortable to Eve, who had grown up in the Wonderbra era, more like a bikini top than a constricting bra. 

Villanelle dug out a plain white t-shirt and pulled it on. "Oh, what, you like this bra? You want me to leave the t-shirt off?"

"No, no, it's fine, whatever," Eve felt her cheeks getting warm and turned away to find another fork in the cutlery drawer. She plonked it on the bench beside the pasta. "There you go, have some dinner."

"Thank you! I love it when you cook for me!" 

"I wouldn't really call this cooking," Eve muttered, but leaned on the bench and watched Villanelle eat anyway. "So, my idea: it must be a pretty recent thing that you've seen or learned, right? That's why the contamination order. What if you wrote down everything you've seen or heard in your most recent assignments, then we can give it to my boss, and she can disseminate the information. Then they'll have no need to hunt us all down, right? They'll be dealing with the fallout from whatever it was that you weren't supposed to know."

Villanelle twirled fettucine into her mouth. "Mmm, a good idea! At the least, it will make everyone mad I am spilling their secrets, and they can all go kill each other instead." 

"Okay, I love it! Except for the murders! Let's get started." Eve rummaged in the bookshelf again and came up with a thick pad of paper and a couple of biros. 

Villanelle took her through her last job – a Russian businessman in London – in between bites of pasta. "Oh, so I was going through his pockets but then the secretary came in, and I had to pretend I was blowing him, so she'd turn around and go out again without seeing my face, but really he was already dead by then, I just didn't have the data drive yet." 

Eve was laughing despite herself. "That's terrible, Villanelle, at least blow the guy before murdering him."

"Oh, you have such good manners, but, ha, no, he doesn't deserve me! And the drive was encrypted anyway, the computer guys will have to sort that one out." She grinned brightly. "Do you have any desserts, Eve? Dessert is my favourite part."

"Let me look. I thought I saw some yoghurt in here?"

"Ugh, yoghurt, why would you call that dessert?"

"I like yoghurt!" Eve peered into the tiny freezer. "Oh, ice cream!" She got out one of the mini Magnums and handed it over to Villanelle, who looked delighted. 

She ripped off the foil and popped the Magnum in her mouth. "Mmm. Ice cream. How can you want yoghurt instead of ice cream, Eve?"

Eve was about to say something about good bacteria, when she straightened up and caught an eyeful of Villanelle fellating the ice cream. 

"Uh, I guess you could do that with frozen yoghurt?"

She cracked the chocolate with her sharp teeth and stuck the point of her tongue right into the soft vanilla ice cream beneath. Like a cat, she scooped up a bit of the ice cream on her curled tongue, then brought it back up into her mouth. Eve watched her like a hypnotised bird in front of a weasel. 

"But I don't want to do that with yoghurt," she smirked, and Eve felt that familiar churn of lust and exasperation. "I want to do it with you."

"Wait, I-" Eve barely got to argue before Villanelle was sprawled across the bench kissing Eve with her vanilla-and-chocolate mouth. Eve felt the kiss right through her body, echoing what she'd felt before in the armchair, electric and violent and hot. And why was she even arguing about this? She was locked in this stupid tiny flat along with the cause of her being locked in this stupid tiny flat, and she couldn't give a flying fuck about anything outside these four walls. She grabbed Villanelle by the shoulders and hauled her the rest of the way over the bench, getting her close. 

Villanelle landed on her feet, of course, and while she broke the kiss, she kept one hand tangled in Eve's already messy hair. 

"Get that t-shirt off," Eve ordered. 

"Okay, I like this." Villanelle did as she was told, her eyes flashing as she briefly vanished behind the t-shirt then emerged again. As her head was ducked under the t-shirt, Eve pushed her again, down towards the floor. "You are getting so bossy, Eve Polastri."

"Good!" Eve snapped back, suddenly very aware that she was wearing her work clothes, still, in a moulded plastic kitchen with dirty dishes on the bench and blood in the sink. But Villanelle didn't seem to be paying any attention to that, only to Eve. 

Villanelle quickly unbuttoned and unzipped Eve's trousers, and they slid down her legs to tangle her feet, so she stepped free of them. As she did, Villanelle pushed up Eve's long cardigan and the bottom of her shirt to expose her underwear. 

"Very wholesome," Villanelle said, approvingly, though Eve felt paralysed with – shame? Excitement? She had no idea, but she didn't want to stop. She reached a hand down and touched Villanelle's silky hair in tender strokes. 

Villanelle dragged Eve's underwear down to her knees, pushing her back to lean against the front door. Eve could see the panic button out the side of her vision and thought for desperate moment about hitting it, bringing everything to a halt, but then she remembered that it would bring people here, and she didn't want people here, she only wanted Villanelle, in this little cell of a flat. 

Villanelle's mouth was hot – and Eve sort of expected it to be cold, after the ice cream, maybe – and Eve groaned and leaned her weight against her shoulders, against the cold metal of the door, the only secure thing in this whole place. She tried to push her legs further apart, pull Villanelle closer in, but the underwear still around her knees locked her legs in position while Villanelle explored with her mouth and hands. Eve was helpless before her and she surrendered, rigid with orgasm seconds later, then another and another as Villanelle quickly mapped out exactly where to touch and press and nip. Eve tried to grip Villanelle's hair, but it slid through her fingers like the imagined Villanelle of earlier this evening. She couldn't control Villanelle for even a moment, and she really needed to think, and she couldn't. 

Eventually Eve just couldn't stay upright and slid to the floor, Villanelle neatly slipping backwards a little and helping lower her to the ground with her strong arms. 

"Oh, my god," Eve said, capacity for rational speech shattered. "Oh, god."

Villanelle licked her lips. "That was a better dessert."

Eve weakly punched her. "Take me to bed, you terrible woman."

With a laugh, Villanelle did, pulling her back up and supporting her wobbly legs all the way there, then snuggling in beside her in the narrow bed, breathing hot on her neck. Eve had completely planned to reciprocate, but instead fell into the immediate and heavy sleep she'd always thought was a man thing. 

In the early hours of the morning, Eve's bladder woke her up, and she turned to see where Villanelle was. She wasn't there. That woke Eve up properly, and she turned on the bedside light. No Villanelle, and the panel in the wall was slightly askew. Shit, she'd run. Eve looked around for a note and saw nothing, so she went to the loo as her bladder was telling her to do. Can't think clearly when you need to pee, she told herself. 

She didn't notice until she sat down, but there was something written on the toilet paper. 

CAMERA IN TV  
THEY'LL BE HERE  
TOMORROW A.M.  
LOVE YOU!!!  
V

Eve shredded the note without even thinking about it, then crumpled it up with more paper, wiped and flushed. Why hadn't she thought about that? Of course they'd be watching. Oh god, that meant they'd been watching!

She was still wearing her bra and shirt, so she went through the drawers and found some underwear and track pants, which were definitely not in her size. She rolled them up and got some fresh socks. There, decent. Then she unplugged the TV, tipped it face down and used the multi-tool in her handbag to unscrew the back of the TV. It was easy enough locate the camera installed inside, so she took her phone out of its signal-blocking pouch and connected the camera with the mini usb cord she used for charging. 

The playback was mortifying. It had a perfect view of Eve searching the apartment, then laying back in the chair and touching herself. The fisheye lens showed her right in the centre of the image, hand down her pants. Villanelle coming through the wall was present in the background, then, as she sat at the kitchen bench waiting for her pasta, Villanelle visually checked the apartment and winked right at the camera. 

Then Villanelle was across the counter and, oh thank god, most of the view of the front door was blocked by the kitchen counter. The top of Eve's head was visible, but that was it. Villanelle had pushed her over there: she was making their encounter just about them. Maybe even protecting Eve? No, then she would have let her know about the camera. Villanelle just didn't want to share. Villanelle and Eve's bare legs went back past the camera, climbing into bed, then the blankets were on them and nothing was visible until Villanelle went to the bathroom then out the front door about two hours later. 

Eve deleted the lot, then replaced the camera in the TV. The only bright side to this – of course MI-6 would want to know who came to kill Eve, if somebody did, of course there was a camera – was that the camera wasn't broadcasting anything. Too much risk of an electronic signal being detected. 

Even with Villanelle's note, Eve was surprised when there was a knock at the door just after nine. 

"Houston!" It was Javid's voice. 

"Mrs Tiggywinkle!" she called back, and, with a quick check that it was really him, unlocked the door. 

"I know you didn't expect me back so soon, but there's been a breakthrough," Javid told her. "You're going to able to go home today."

"Great news!" Eve said enthusiastically and went to pack up her things. "So, what happened?"

"They didn't tell me." His phone rang. "Oh, it's Carolyn. This will be for you."

"Hello, Eve!" Carolyn sounded very chipper this morning. "Things are looking up, I'm sure Javid's told you. The order's been called off and you're right to go. Take the day off."

"Well, thank you, but what exactly was the breakthrough?" 

"It turned out that your little assassin friend killed someone who was holding some very important blackmail material. They assumed she'd read the information, but it seems not."

Eve thought back to last night and remembered what Villanelle had said about the encrypted data. "And how, exactly, did you find that out?"

"Oh, I have eyes and ears absolutely everywhere."

Eve blanched. Carolyn had overheard their conversation. And if she'd overheard that…

"So, uh, who was the blackmail information about? It was something of, how did you put it? National interest? Was there ever actually a containment order or did you start that rumour yourself?"

"I certainly can't tell you that, Eve. Please accept a hearty well done, and I'll say ta-ta for now."

"Carolyn!" 

"Oh, and Eve? Thanks awfully for the show." Carolyn hung up, having the last word yet again.

Eve handed the phone back to Javid, who was now looking mildly concerned. 

"Are you okay there?"

"Fine!" Eve shrieked, before getting herself under control. "Fine. Thank you. Fine. Just planning to run away to, I don't know, Patagonia or somewhere and never, ever, ever come back."

Eve wasn't going to Patagonia, though. Her thoughts were with Villanelle, wherever she might be right now, and on last night. Carolyn had enjoyed the show, had she? Well, then she was going to have to assign Eve to many, many more Villanelle cases, and she could just see what came of that. And she probably would.


End file.
